I’m cross posting this interview with Wesleyan Psychology Professor Scott Plous, which originally appeared through our partners at Coursera. In addition to being a beloved teacher at Wes, Scott is the Founder and Executive Director of the Social Psychology Network, a nonprofit membership organization whose mission is “to promote peace, social justice, and sustainable living through public education, research, and the advancement of psychology.”

What would happen if thousands of people around the world spent an entire day being as compassionate to fellow human beings as possible? Thanks to Wesleyan University Professor Scott Plous’ Social Psychology course, we don’t have to wonder. The wildly popular class, which debuted on Coursera in 2013, culminates with a “Day of Compassion” assignment, for which students from India to Colombia to Australia have volunteered at hospitals, fought sexual abuse, become grassroots activists and even, in one case, saved a life. And the effects have proved to be long-lasting—as a result of the exercise, many students say their own lives have been transformed. Plous recently appeared on NPR’s “Hidden Brain” podcast to talk about the science of compassion with reporter Shankar Vedantam—and invited radio listeners everywhere to take on the 24-hour challenge. We caught up with Plous to discuss his journey from being an online learning skeptic to an outspoken advocate and to share his hopes for the NPR experiment.

Coursera: You coined the term “action teaching” in 2000. Can you explain what that means?

Scott Plous: In courses that employ action teaching, students contribute to the betterment of society at the same time that they learn about a particular topic. For example, students learning about persuasion or philanthropy might compare the effectiveness of different fundraising techniques by going into the local community and raising money for a nonprofit organization chosen by the class (for some award-winning examples, see ActionTeaching.org). In each of my courses, I include at least one action teaching assignment.

Coursera: You taught our largest single course session (enrolling over 250,000 learners!) and have become the Coursera equivalent of a rock star. But we know you were initially hesitant to develop an online course. Why?

SP: I hesitated for a few reasons. First, I wasn’t sure whether publishers and documentary filmmakers would contribute materials without charge, but, to their credit, McGraw-Hill and others donated free materials that would have cost students a total of more than $1,000 to buy. In addition, I wasn’t sure whether students would do the coursework without receiving college credit. Finally, I wasn’t sure if the course would be well-received by students from other cultures, including people who didn’t speak English as their first language. I’ve now run this course twice and am continually impressed by the effort and ability displayed by learners around the world.

Coursera: Now that you’ve tested the waters with amazing success, what, for you, is the biggest upside to open online courses?

SP: The opportunity to reach a larger and more diverse group of students than I normally would. For instance, in the 2013 session of my Social Psychology class, students came from roughly 200 countries, and about 100,000 of these students lived in countries with emerging economies — places with relatively limited access to higher education and psychology training.

Coursera: The Day of Compassion contest was a resounding success, but it was something that had had been part of your classes for years. What was different for you, as a teacher, about conducting it on such a grand scale?

SP: It was different in two ways. First, students carried out the assignment around the world, which led to a level of cultural exchange beyond what’s typically possible in a traditional college course. Second, students in the online course voted to honor a classmate with a “Day of Compassion Award” that included an expense-paid trip to personally meet the Dalai Lama (in the 2013 session) or Jane Goodall (in the 2014 session). During the award selection process, students also got the chance to read and learn from each other’s work.

Coursera: You’ve said that in order to truly deliver on action teaching, online courses need to “connect to the most urgent and important issues of the day.” What issues do you find yourself talking about most often with your students right now?

SP: The issues I’ve focused on most are peace, social justice, and climate change, but it’s important to note that action teaching isn’t limited to social psychology. Whether a course is in psychology, computer science, creative writing, business, or anything else, there’s usually a way to incorporate action teaching — not as a trade-off at the expense of core concepts but as a way of engaging students even further. For example, after business students learn about topics such as negotiation and conflict resolution, teachers can challenge them to go out and actually reduce a conflict in their life or in the life of others they know. The end result is that students will not only learn in a meaningful way but that the others will benefit, as well. In fact, what Shankar has done with his podcast could be called “action reporting.” He has found a way to improve the social condition even while educating and entertaining his listeners.

Coursera: We’re thrilled that you’re taking the challenge to the NPR audience and excited to see what happens. What are your hopes for what will happen?

SP: First, I hope listeners will give the exercise a try and see what happens. As the podcast suggests, many people find the experience transformative. Second, I hope listeners send their stories of compassion to Shankar, who has promised to showcase them in a future podcast (Shankar can be reached through NPR and is also on Twitter @HiddenBrain). Finally, I hope teachers in elementary school, middle school, high school, and college will try a Day of Compassion assignment with their own students. This year, students at Wesleyan University, where the exercise was first developed, will participate in the 15th Annual Day of Compassion, and I’m eager to read their reports!

Give a big Wesleyan cheer to Janice Naegele, professor of biology, neuroscience and behavior, for the honor to be bestowed upon her by the Society of Neuroscience. According to the association, the Louise Hanson Marshall Special Recognition Award honors “individuals who have significantly promoted the professional development of women in neuroscience through teaching, organizational leadership, public advocacy, and more.” Here’s what the society says:

Naegele  began her career studying the characteristics of cortical neurons and more recently has performed pioneering studies of transplantation of inhibitory neurons in the brain as a potential treatment for severe epilepsy. She has also been an avid communicator and advocate for the study and treatment of epilepsy. As director of the Center for Faculty Career Development at Wesleyan, Prof. Naegele has worked tirelessly to raise awareness about and reduce bias against women in academia.

Jan is a mentor to faculty colleagues as well as students. An active researcher, she also supports efforts to make science clear to a broad audience. We are fortunate to have Jan Naegele as a colleague, and it is a delight to join in this recognition of her achievements.

Wesleyan alumna Orelia Jonathan ’15 recently sent the following note to the African Student Association:

As some of you may or may not know, Buagji, the village in Western Equitoria, Sudan, where my father was born and where I based much of the research for my thesis, was burnt to the ground on Friday night by the SPLA armed forced (Southern Sudanese Government). This atrocity occurred after the small village resisted a cattle raid by another tribe and called the government for protection. Instead of protecting the village, the government, who is run by members of the same tribe that attempted the cattle raid, came and opened fire on civilians – my people and family members – as well as burned and looted most of the houses in the village, including the school that Geneva and I have spent the past couple of years raising money to support.

Some of you might also realize that this is the same village where [her sister] Geneva [Jonathan ’15] and I laid down foundations to build a Women’s Maternity Health Clinic and general health center this past summer with a grant we received from Wesleyan University.

Right now there are approximately 1000 families hiding in the mountains and jungle (including my own family and baby cousins) and there are hundreds of children who are terribly hungry because the soldiers took all of the food and the village people were unable to take food because they had to flee.

Orelia has offered this update:

The same region of Western Equatoria, near Jambo, was attacked again on October 5 by armed government helicopters. Still no international news has taken up the story of these civilians, who are NOT part of the military opposition. A very few have taken up (small) arms to defend their land. The only reports come from the opposition army, where they are interpreted as “allegations” only. We cannot believe these attacks have not been reported internationally.

We received word that families (including my own) are still hiding 10-15 miles from the road, with some returning to their villages by dark of night to get food. Those areas that are a little further from the road have not yet been attacked, although people do not feel able to return to them safely. The UN has promised to follow-through with the so-called peace agreement insofar as possible, and has supported the establishment of an African Union war crimes court in South Sudan. These, however, are long-term solutions and do nothing to protect our people right now.

Please continue to help spread the word about these atrocities, for they have gone on for far too long- and hundreds of innocent people are going hungry as a result or worse, being killed. To read a news article about the most recent attack, click here.

Orelia has set up a go-fund-me page here. You can find updates and lend a hand.

Wesleyan is very fortunate to have many faculty members who connect their deep academic specializations with urgent contemporary issues. The Allbritton Center for the Study of Public Life is the most visible sign of the University’s commitment in this regard. Gun violence is certainly a national problem that shatters lives and communities with sickening regularity. Before the latest school shooting in Oregon, Jennifer Tucker (history, science in society, feminist, gender and sexuality studies) had written a strong opinion piece that contextualized debates about guns. In an op-ed picked up by several newspapers, Prof. Tucker has argued that “one fact stands out: Guns might not kill people, but guns get people killed.” She goes on to say that “it would be great to see gun owners get more involved in arguing for basic limits on the proliferation of firearms that would help reduce the numbers of deaths and casualties of firearm-related violence in America today. One thing they should do is familiarize themselves with the true history of the American frontier, where gun restrictions were seen as conducive to a healthy nation.” She has expanded on this argument in a WNPR interview.

Yesterday, Prof. Tucker joined with health sciences and epidemiology professor Matthew Miller in writing an opinion piece for the Boston Globe that underscores the public health dimension of America’s infatuation with unregulated gun trafficking. They conclude that “firearm violence is a public health crisis no less serious than those associated with automobiles. Our experience with autos and pollution shows that, along with other measures, sensible gun regulations could save lives.”

The massacre at Umpqua Community College is another reminder just how catastrophic the combination of mental illness and access to deadly weapons can be. Education can not exist in a context of deadly threats. Civil society, itself, depends on the regulation of the mechanisms of violence.

Thank you, Jennifer Tucker, for combining history, engagement and civic responsibility in your ongoing work. I only wish it was less urgent!

Satoshi Omura, for many years Wesleyan’s Max Tishler Professor of Chemistry, was awarded a share of the Nobel Prize for Medicine this morning for developing a new drug, Avermectin. A derivative of that drug, Ivermectin, has nearly eradicated river blindness and radically reduced the incidence of filariasis, which causes the disfiguring swelling of the lymph system in the legs and lower body known as elephantiasis.

Professor Omura’s association with Wesleyan began in 1971 when he spent a year and a half working with the late Max Tishler, professor of chemistry. During this time, he isolated a new species of microorganism, Streptomyces avermitilis, which is the source of avermectin. He and Prof. Tishler gave their findings to Merck, Sharp & Dohme which developed the derivative ivermectin which prevents river blindness. Throughout their lives he stayed in touch with Max and Betty Tishler; making sure to visit them and the chemistry department at Wes whenever he was in the United States. In 1994, Wesleyan awarded Dr. Omura a Doctor of Science honorary degree.

Over the last few years I have had the honor of visiting with Dr. Omura and celebrating his accomplishments. He has remained dedicated to the pursuit of science and the arts, finding in nature the possibilities of alleviating suffering and promoting human flourishing. Long a pioneer in “discovering bioactive chemicals derived from naturally-occurring microorganisms,” he has also found ways to connect the arts to human well-being.

Congratulations to Satoshi Omura for this well-deserved recognition of his extraordinary achievements!

 

Lots of good stuff in the new issue of Wesleyan magazine. Charles Salas’ essay on pedagogical innovation makes clear that at Wes there is a great tradition of wanting “to create as much space as possible for humane interactions among faculty and students.” Going back to the creation of interdisciplinary colleges created in the 1950s under President Victor Butterfield, Salas shows how the Wesleyan campus has been a fertile ground for experimenting to create the most effective forms of liberal education.

I was particularly interested in the section of the article on Project Based Learning (PBL). Salas gives an account of how Profs. Michael Weir and Ruth Johnson in Biology have developed new strategies for teaching aimed at improving learning and reducing attrition in the sciences, and he talks with Prof. Jan Naegele about support for this kind of work at Wesleyan:

Project-based Learning (PBL) is also at the heart of Professor Psyche Loui’s courses in psychology. Her Advanced Research Methods Course in Auditory Cognitive Neuroscience is entirely PBL. After reviewing the latest studies in auditory cognitive neuroscience—especially with respect to speech and music—students design and implement their own group project. One such project, using music to help people with epilepsy, led to a publication. So did a project looking at how rhythm affects the way music and language are processed in the brain. Loui remembers with some amusement and not a little fondness when one student (a rapper, she discovered) started rapping in the middle of class discussion to demonstrate a point. She loves it when students apply scientific insights to their own life. And she and her students are not the only ones to love that. Last month the Imagination Institute at the University of Pennsylvania awarded Loui a $200,000 grant to use brain studies to explore the mental trajectories of aesthetic imagination and creativity in jazz improvisation.

Wesleyan’s mission statement describes the education it seeks to offer as “characterized by boldness, rigor, and practical idealism.” The word “boldness” is meant to signal openness to pedagogical innovation, and the term “practical idealism” points to the ability of students to translate what they learn in addressing real world problems, be it creating an online community for amputees or music that helps epileptics. Wesleyan is interested in doing more with PBL, which often results in greater engagement on the part of students, deeper understanding of concepts, and improved collaborative and communications skills.

“In biology, computer science, mathematics, and physics,” notes Naegele, “PBL is also encouraging the participation of more women and minority students.” Major national foundations, impressed with what the university has been doing so far, have proved eager to help, awarding Wesleyan with grants to promote (and assess) PBL across the curriculum. This includes support for pedagogical workshops and either course relief or course overload pay for faculty who want to create PBL courses.

Whether in Project Based work, interdisciplinary colleges or blended learning with flipped classrooms, pedagogical innovation is alive and well at Wesleyan!

 

A few days ago,Wesleyan trustee (and my classmate) Irma Gonzalez forwarded me a moving essay by another board member, Al Young ’88. It was recently published in the Detroit News. Given that his subject is so close to many of our own campus’s conversations, I asked him if I might reprint his piece here.

Al is the Arthur F. Thurnau Professor and Department Chair in the Department of African and Afro-American Studies at the University of Michigan. His fields of study are culture and knowledge; race, ethnicity and immigration, and social psychology.

My late father and I really began to hit it off during my teenage years. Prior to that I struggled to understand him. As a child, a relative told me a story about how my father as a young man had hoped to be a parent of daughters because his own stepfather had convinced him that boys were just too much trouble. My father’s firstborn was a girl, and I, as his second and last child, sometimes thought that my birth somehow let him down.

I do not recall ever talking to him about this, but I also never thought much about the matter after turning 16. It was then that I felt like I truly made sense to my dad, as he did to me. I began feeling that I wasn’t so bad after all. Truthfully, I never was. This was much unlike some of the guys I grew up with in New York City’s East Harlem, where there seemed to be no shortage of young black and brown men in trouble. I never experienced their kind of trouble, and at age 16, I began feeling that whatever insecurities I had about being my dad’s son were replaced by the euphoric feeling that he was happy to have me in his life.

My father was a college-educated professional, so the poverty surrounding our family in East Harlem was never brought into our household. Instead, my teenage years were spent getting to know my father and his social worlds. Among other things he taught me that anything he achieved was within my grasp, but he also let me know that at any point in time I could be underestimated and prejudged because I am a black man.

I experienced integrated schooling since the first grade. My parents had more resources than many of our neighbors, so going to school in this Caucasian environment was counterbalanced by returning home to East Harlem — a social world full of struggling Latinos and African-Americans. I learned to navigate race by moving between these social worlds (what we today call code-switching). Through elementary and high school I had white friends and black friends, and I was one of few who regularly engaged people on each side of the divide.

As a child of the 1970s and ’80s, the rules of engagement were clear. Black boys had their ways of talking to each other, and black and white boys never ventured into the terrain of black-on-black conversation. Occasionally some of my white friends took an interest in the emerging phenomenon called hip-hop, but most struggled to understand why any group would want to rhyme about themselves over tracks of music made by somebody else. The parties in high school were never really integrated. In my all-male Catholic high school, the black boys attended the one party a year hosted by the black student organization. The other parties were not on our calendar as the two racially distinct worlds got along side-by-side, in the lunchroom, classroom, practice field, and the stands.

Three decades later, I am the parent of two boys, teaching at the University of Michigan and living in Ann Arbor. My goal has been to create the same quality of relationship with my boys that I experienced with my dad. A well-respected family sociologist once told me that I could never live with my children the way I lived with my father. Her comment encouraged me to think about how East Harlem of the 1970s and 1980s was not at all like the Ann Arbor of the 21st century. As I raise my family, I am reminded of this all the time.

My oldest son is nearly 17. His peer group includes young men of various races and ethnicities. In fact, he has rarely experienced racially distinct social circles. He has grown up hearing the N-word not as an intentionally derogatory term but as part of Hip Hop culture. It seems that every young person listens to Hip Hop today, and popular culture offers no grounds for making racial distinctions. Today, race talk happens exclusively at home for my sons rather than with friends as it did back then. The discussions my wife and I have with him and his 12-year-old brother about race often seem to me to be suited for children of the 1980s.

To be fair, my sons understand that race matters. We talk about the public responses to President Barack Obama in ways that make it clear that they realize that it does. Yet, I long for them to understand why race matters. After all, they have never had to divide their life experiences in the same way as I did. My boys understand the civil rights movement not as a time in which the adults in their lives fought for social justice (as I recall thinking in the 70s and 80s), but as an historic moment of some time ago — a part of history just like slavery.

Today they don’t have to talk about race. Social media allows them to non-verbally access all kinds of people and situations that can be all about race. And none require face-to-face interactive skills that had to be employed in the past. Today talk among youth is facilitated by technology, which allows so much to be shared with so many, all without anyone having to actually talk to anybody. Hence, young people can claim to know so much about other people and their life situations without ever having to directly confront them or their issues.

And that makes me nervous. I am nervous not because I doubt the ability of my sons to become who they want to be in the future. I am nervous because, like any parent, I worry about that which I am hopeful for, but cannot control, which is their future. More importantly, as a black man and father I am nervous because I am still trying to figure out the racial rules that they abide by when so much of the game seems the same.

Black males can be killed for walking down the street (Trayvon Martin), arguing with the police (Michael Brown) or face-down on the platform of a municipal train station (Oscar Grant), yet theirs is a single social world with no public space to retreat and reflect. The only space is at home with mom and dad, neither of whom can figure out why so many youth today so casually use the N-word, and why our boys sometimes act like their fates are so common with others when so much happens to us that does not happen to them.

I tell my oldest son (and my youngest more so in recent years), that the internet cannot give you all you need to know about interacting with police, whether in small towns or large cities. My son is quite knowledgeable of local laws and policies (another by-product of the internet), but this does not substitute for knowing how to act in public, I warn. And despite what the law says, I tell him that associating with people in trouble means that you will be in trouble as well if the police are around.

Because he weighs 215 pounds and wears a size 14 shoe, I warn him that not everyone, certainly not some police, will necessarily see him as the boy he is. I tell him that although he has a way to go to be a man, he must know right now that others will think of him and act toward him as a man, and what the law says may not matter for how such others may respond to him in the mall, after the concert or the game, or on the street.

The streets of Ann Arbor may strike many as innocent, but my son goes to concerts in Detroit, visits relatives in New York City and loves to vacation in Chicago. Those streets demand that a young black male know not just the law, but how easily he can be seen as unlawful in the eyes of others. This insight cannot be garnered through social media, and it seems to have no place in his peer group discussions.

Consequently, I strive to tell him that the power of race is such that what people do, especially in moments of uncertainty and confusion, may not correspond with his idea of proper conduct. Hence, he cannot always assume that people will think of him as a proper young man, irrespective of how he thinks about and conducts himself. I tell him and his brother that just because there may be less talk about race today, whether because people have decided that it’s just not right to talk about or because they do not talk much at all because they are texting, that at any point in time, in any place, race may make all the difference for what happens to them and why.

Professor Alford Young, Wesleyan Class of 1988

Today (Saturday, Sept 26th) is the opening of Wesleyan’s football season, Middletown Day, and an opportunity to thank veterans for their service.

Much of the action will take place around Andrus Field. Family activities will run from 11 a.m.­–2:30 p.m. and will include a bounce house, a face painter, a balloon artist, live music and free popcorn. Other food will be on sale. There also will be a Resource Fair with informational booths from campus and community organizations, located in the Huss Courtyard behind Usdan University Center.

Beginning at 12:30 p.m., Wesleyan Football will play Middlebury College on Andrus Field. The Middletown Police Bagpipe Association will lead veterans in attendance onto the field for recognition. The halftime show will feature a performance by the Middletown High School Marching Band.

Wesleyan will host veterans from the greater Middletown community, as well as veterans from our staff, faculty, student body and alumni.

Other athletic contests taking place that day include Women’s Soccer vs. Bates at 11 a.m. on Jackson Field; Women’s Field Hockey vs. Bates at 11 a.m. on Smith Field; Women’s Volleyball vs. U.S. Coast Guard Academy at noon in the Freeman Athletic Center’s Silloway Gymnasium; and Men’s Soccer vs. Bates at 2:30 p.m. on Jackson Field.

It should be a great day for our community, a great day to be a Cardinal!